by Lynda Renham
‘She’ll take it,’ says Mum, sensing my hesitation. ‘And I’ll take this dress and scarf.’
Honestly, I really don’t understand why everyone is in such a rush. It isn’t like I’m up the duff or anything. The only reason we’re having the wedding on the 3rd May is because Oliver’s friend, who manages the events at the Dorchester, said he could give us a special deal for that day as there is some building work going on that afternoon and no one else will book it. Everyone seemed to go crazy when we got that offer. Oh my God, to have your reception at the Dorchester, what a dream Binki, Muffy had said, and for Muffy to say that it must be something. She hates weddings and all that goes with them. So I’m getting married in nine weeks’ time because the Dorchester has building work. I’m sure it makes as much sense to you as it does me.
‘I should get a hat?’ says Mum thoughtfully.
‘Amanda,’ calls the assistant. ‘We need this adjusted.’
Oh great, the woman adjusting me is called Amanda. Well, that’s about right isn’t it? Amandas seem to have a habit of adjusting my life.
‘Can I get you other ladies another coffee?’
Mum nods and Muffy grabs a dress from a rail.
‘I’ll try this on,’ she says merrily.
I follow Amanda into the changing room and glance down at my engagement ring and with a knot in my stomach I phone Oliver.
‘Hi honey, how is the dress thing going?’
I cringe. I so wish he wouldn’t call me honey. There is something so American about the honey thing isn’t there. I imagine us greeting each other in the evening.
‘Hi Honey, how was your day Hun? ‘
No, I can’t really picture it. I’m just not a Hun type of person.
‘It’s going okay. Mum has found a nice dress and Muffy is kind of …’
‘How about you, did you choose the wedding dress?’
‘I think so, just a few minor adjustments and …’
‘Hang on babe,’ he interrupts and his voice becomes muffled. Oh why do I think Amanda Rowland has entered his office?
‘Oliver?’ I say, trying to keep the irritation from my voice.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Something came up.’
As long as it wasn’t your cock that came up. Binki stop it, you can’t spend the next nine weeks leading up to your marriage like this or the next sixty years of marriage either. Christ, sixty years.
‘Helen was asking about your wedding shower,’ he continues.
Who the hell is Helen and what the pissing hell is a wedding shower? I know Oliver works for an American company and all that, but I’m British and proud of it, well, most of the time anyway. But you know what I mean. We don’t have showers here do we, unless you’re talking about downpours of rain.
‘Well I hadn’t thought of having one …’
‘It’s the done thing these days; all women have them before their wedding day. I suppose we should compare diaries and get these things sorted. I need to book my stag night too. Anyway we can talk about it over dinner. I’d better get on Binki.’
Amanda doing a slow striptease is she? Oh God, I have got to stop this. What kind of marriage will I have if I don’t trust my husband?
‘Do you mind if we leave dinner tonight …’
Amanda spins me around.
‘It needs to be tighter in the waist,’ she says.
‘Why?’ he asks.
‘It’s a bit loose,’ I reply.
‘I meant why do you want to cancel dinner?’
‘How does that feel?’ asks Amanda.
I glance in the mirror. It makes me look very slim actually. A shame I can’t wear it every day.
‘Great,’ I whisper.
‘It’s just, do you remember that deal William did with …’ I say into the phone.
‘Christ, not bloody William again. What is it with him?’
Oh dear.
‘I think we should try it with a good bra,’ suggests Amanda.
‘Oliver, William is just a mate and well, the deal is being announced tomorrow in the Financial Times and …’
‘But that deal was weeks ago …’
Amanda disappears to fetch a bra and I fan my hot face.
‘It takes a long time to finalise these things and anyway he’s celebrating it tonight and I’d like to go and …’
‘Oh, so others will be there?’
I hesitate. There will be other people in the restaurant so it isn’t strictly lying if I say yes is it? And William and I are just friends and I can have dinner with Oliver any night. I live in the same house with William so I don’t know why Oliver is getting so uptight over dinner anyway.
‘These should cushion your breasts perfectly,’ says Amanda returning.
‘Who are you talking to?’ asks Oliver.
‘The assistant adjusting my dress, and yeah I imagine there will be other people there.’
‘So I can come with you?’
Shit.
‘I think it’s just people involved in the deal and stuff and …’
‘In other words I’m not invited. Look honey, you’ve got to ask him to chase up his solicitor. That house is most certainly yours. We can sell that and really reduce the mortgage we take out on our house. I don’t understand why it’s taking so long.’
‘I did phone Mr Hayden but he was away skiing. They promised he would phone me as soon as he returned. One of Muffy’s friends said it could take up to a year …’
‘Can you hang on a minute Hun?’
What did I say about the Hun thing? It’s started already.
‘Look I have to go Binki, there’s a problem here. In fact I may have to work late so maybe it’s for the best. Phone me later won’t you? ‘
Work late, the two little words that send a little chill through me. I’ve got to stop this. I’ve got to stop translating working late into fucking Amanda and something’s come up to Oliver has a hard on or I’ll drive myself insane.
‘Oh sorry, did I prick you?’ Amanda says as she pins the hem.
You see, I just can’t get away from it can I? I’ll ask William for his advice. A man’s perspective will help me see sense.
Chapter Thirty
I watch the ice skaters glide gracefully around the rink and am transported back to the day that William and I went skating. I don’t imagine anyone watching us from this restaurant window would have seen anything quite as graceful that day. It seems such a long time ago that we were at Brands Hatch, and now just a few weeks later I am engaged to Oliver and sporting a huge sparkling bling on my finger. The problem is I am carrying around as many doubts as I am carats.
‘Binki.’
William’s voice seems to come from a distance. I turn my head from the window and see the waiter by our table.
‘Sorry, I was miles away. I haven’t even looked at the menu.’
William cocks his head.
‘We’ll share a Fettuccine Carbonara and a green salad, and olives and bread to start. Thank you.’
‘Wow,’ I say laughing. ‘You know what I want better than I do.’
He checks his phone and then leans back in his chair. He’s still wearing the purple shirt but has removed the tie. As usual he is causing his usual stir and the women in the restaurant are finding it hard not to glance at him.
‘Did you choose the dress?’ he smiles.
I pull a face.
‘Yeah apparently I look very Princess Grace of Monaco.’
‘Hopefully before she died,’ he laughs.
I stare at him.
‘That’s what I said.’
He smiles and pushes some papers across the table.
‘Signed sealed and delivered.’
I clink his wine glass with mine.
‘We should have ordered champagne,’ I say.
‘We still can,’ he says, lifting his arm. I reach out to stop him and our hands touch and I’m shocked at the feelings that shoot through me, it’s like I’ve been struck by lightning. His fac
e gives nothing away so I presume he felt nothing.
‘It’s fine,’ I say.
He sips from his glass and I feel his foot touch my leg and quickly pull it away.
‘Roche’s having a big bash tomorrow night but I said I imagine you and Oliver have something on.’
Oh God, I can just see Oliver agreeing to that.
‘I think we have,’ I say, leaning back as a waiter places the olives and bread on the table.
His phone rings and I see Andrea’s name flash up. I turn away and pop an olive into my mouth. I go to pop another one when I remember the wedding dress. Sod it I suppose I’d better not eat the bread either. He clicks the phone off without answering it and pushes the bread towards me.
‘It’s not like you not to tuck in. Do you feel okay?’
I sigh.
‘Apparently there are only so many dress fittings you can squeeze into the space of eight weeks and Muffy says I must not gain weight.’
‘One dinner won’t make much difference.’
He’s quite right of course. I dip the bread in the saucer of oil and laugh as a couple slip over on the ice.
‘That’s cruel,’ laughs William.
‘I know, but I bet people laughed at us.’
‘So how is Andrea?’ I ask, not giving a fig if she is covered in psoriasis.
‘She’s fine. I’m sure that’s as much as you want to know isn’t it?’
‘And how’s Dick Head?’
‘I don’t know actually. She’s not seeing him any more.’
Ah, which can only mean she is seeing William instead. Oh, well, I guess they are a good match.
‘So, what’s Oliver doing tonight?’ he asks as the waiter places the Carbonara onto the table.
‘Working late,’ I say and wait for the waiter to grate parmesan onto our plates before blurting out,
‘Christ William, do you think he is screwing Amanda Rowland?’
He cringes.
‘Are you trying to put me off my pasta or something? Oh, talking of nipples, Luther said they have tons and he knows what a chocolate addict you are. They’re going to go stale. Can you imagine stale nipples and penises? Anyway the upshot of it is he asked me to ask you if you want them for the chocolate teapot. They’re back at the house because I presumed the answer would be yes. So wedding dress or no wedding dress you’ve got a hell of a lot of chocolate at home and that doesn’t even include my M&Ms’
He smiles and I feel myself go all warm at the words at home. Oh why couldn’t William be the committing type? I stupidly feel myself come over all weepy. Oh for Christ’s sake. It’s that bloody background music they’re playing and all those lovey-dovey ice skaters that’s doing it.
‘And no, I’m sure he isn’t screwing Amanda Rowland,’ he says, putting his hand on mine. ‘He’s marring you. You’ve only got to look at that ring on your finger to know he loves you.’
His phone rings again and this time Vicki pops up. Who the hell is Vicki? I’m surprised he had time to fit me in.
I pull my hand away sharply.
‘You’re sure you’ve got time to have dinner with me. I feel like a gooseberry here. Are you running your own private dating service or something?’
He laughs.
‘When do two women constitute a dating service? I am allowed to see women you know. Don’t forget I’ve got all those condoms to get through. You never stop talking about them.’
I feel my body relax.
‘I know. We never seem to talk now do we?’ I say petulantly.
‘We talk every day,’ he says, biting into a piece of pasta.
‘Yes, but that’s about work. So how is your love life?’ I ask sipping from my glass.
He runs his hand through his hair and smiles.
‘Well, Vicki is very keen but I’m not sure. She talks about vampires and stuff …’
I burst out laughing.
‘Her most valued possession is her complete box set of True Blood. I don’t know what she’s on about half the time. Andrea is cagy, after last time and so am I …’
He hesitates and smiles at me.
‘You’re the woman I see the most of these days and it’s nicely uncomplicated. Nathan comes back from Dubai tomorrow and things went really well with that merger by the way. I’ve got to tell him about Roche. I’m not looking forward to it. He’ll be hurt that we shut him out.’
‘It was what Roche wanted,’ I say, feeling my heart drop at the thought of Nathan returning. Hopefully he’ll work at the office in Canary Wharf.
We eat in silence for a time and I watch the ice skaters with envy. I look up to see William studying me. He turns away and tops up our wine glasses. I remember Oliver’s words about the house and reluctantly broach the subject.
‘William, Oliver asked about the house. It would reduce the mortgage if it turns out the house is mine and … Oh God William, I don’t really care who it belongs to but I guess we need to find out and …’
He places more salad onto his plate and then onto mine.
‘Yes, you’re right, I should chase mine up. I’ll call them first thing tomorrow okay? I’ve got to go to Manchester tomorrow but I will do it, I promise. Now let’s celebrate the Roche deal. How do you want to do it?’
‘I thought we were celebrating,’ I say surprised.
‘With dinner, absolutely not, you must be joking. Apparently a new jazz club opened in Soho last week and tonight is a Tony Bennett special. They’ve got a band, a singer and I think it will be a brilliant night and it had to be you to come with me tonight. So what do you say? We’ll get drunk on tequila and both have mammoth hangovers tomorrow, but you saved the deal and we should celebrate. Let’s face it, I won’t be able to take you out when you’re a married woman.’
I gawp at him and burst out laughing.
‘Do you realise in the whole time I’ve known you that is the most you have said to me?’
He looks embarrassed and runs his hand through his hair.
‘I guess I want you to come,’ he says softly.
And I so want to go. I want to spend as much time in William’s company as I can. I try not to sigh when his phone trills. He gives me an apologetic look and begins talking business. I finish the Carbonara and remember Andrea’s words, let’s hope you last longer than the others.
‘Sorry about that,’ he says, hanging up. ‘I’ve just got to call them back on the way to the club. The papers are in the car. Is that okay? You are coming to the club?’
I nod.
He grins and beckons to the waiter.
‘We’d better crack onto dessert then.’
Of course, once Oliver and I are married I won’t be able to see William, at least not socially. I’ll see him at work. Then of course if the house does turn out to be mine then I won’t work at the offices any more because Oliver will want to sell Driftwood. I wonder if I can actually bring myself to sell Driftwood. Maybe we could rent it out to William and that would make everything perfect. I could still work for William, and William would have the offices and the house and the rent money would pay our mortgage. Surely Oliver would be happy with that?
*
‘Jesus,’ I mumble. ‘Is that me?’
I stare at my reflection and am speechless. Christ, I wish I had meet Rhona a few weeks ago. I could have given Amanda Rowland a run for her money. I’ve been totally transformed. I seriously could be on the front page of Elle, okay maybe that’s a bit adventurous, maybe Woman’s Own but crikey, you should see me. Mind you, after the amount of tequilas I’ve drunk there is a good chance I’m not looking even half as good as I think am, but right now I couldn’t give a shit. Rhona is the American singer at the club but it turns out that during the day she is a professional make-up artist and she has just given me the makeover of my life. She adjusts my hair and stands back to appraise her work.
‘You look stunning darling. Every man in the room will want to shag you.’
It’s been a brilliant evening. The jazz club wa
s buzzing when we arrived and things just got madder as the evening wore on. The band was terrific and Rhona was fabulous. After one too many tequilas William was demanding they play The Lady is a Tramp and she responded with I’ll be your tramp any day baby.
Rhona had said to me, Darling, I can turn you into Miss Glamour and the next thing I knew I was in the ladies and being transformed.
My lips are a beautiful red, and she has somehow given me high cheekbones. My flimsy eyelashes are long and full. She pulls me out of the loo and towards William who is standing by the piano. He glances at me, turns back to the piano and quickly back to me.
‘Wow, what happened to you?’
‘You need to hang onto her William. There won’t be a man in this place who won’t want a piece of her ass.’
I smile shyly and flutter my eyelashes at him.
‘Want a piece of ass?’ I say seductively.
I’ve had far too much tequila but it is a celebration after all.
‘Don’t tempt me lady.’
He glances at his watch.
‘It’s 2 a.m. I think you and I should head home don’t you?’
I nod. I am beginning to feel tired. Oh God, I never phoned Oliver and I never thought to check my phone. I quickly check my Blackberry to see two missed calls and a text.
Tried to phone you to see how your evening was going but you must be out of signal or something. It’s ten here and just finishing. I’ll phone you in the morning. I love you. Xxx
Ten, what the bloody hell was he doing until ten. Working my arse, well if he has been balancing bloody Brown Nipples on his balls that will be the end of that and …
‘Binki, did you hear Rhona?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say throwing the phone into my bag.
‘I said one last song before you go. William said it’s got to be It had to be you.
Everyone cheers when the song is announced and William twirls me into his arms.
‘One dance, Miss Glam? You know we haven’t danced all evening?’
I look around.
‘There isn’t a dance floor.’ I smile.
The music starts and he pulls me close.
The next thing I know we are moving together and William is singing the lyrics into my ear. He twirls me twice and then pulls me back into his arms. I’ve never felt more at home anywhere than I am feeling now in his arms, and I’ve never felt happier in my whole life. I feel a stab of guilt for enjoying my evening with William so much. He whispers in my ear,
